Page 56 of Tamed

Oh, and didn’t I know it. I hadn’t thought abouthisreaction at all, not once over the entirety of the weekend. But now that he was standing here, right in front of me, I was very,veryaware that if he knew he’d scream at me then probably kill Caleb. It would hopefully be a metaphorical killing, but with Dad you could never tell.

So, I didn’t look at Caleb, even though the brief glimpse that I’d had as I’d come through the doors was marked with fire in my head.

So tall, so broad. In one of his CEO bot suits that were tailored so perfectly for him. White shirt and…oh, holy fuck…. a red tie. Why did it have to be a red tie?

I could feel the pressure of his gaze like a storm front approaching, making the air crackle with electricity. I could barely get a breath.

“Um…hi,” I forced out, my voice fracturing. “S-sorry, I didn’t know—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dad’s blue gaze was colder than ice. “Caleb told me what happened on Friday night.”

My brain reeled. What? About Caleb and me? About him taking my virginity on the floor of that room in Arcadia? But no, no that couldn’t be right. Caleb wouldn’t have said anything, he wouldn’t. Except he might have told Dad about me escaping my security detail, that he definitely would have said, the prick.

I swallowed hard, keeping my gaze on Dad’s. “About the…. uh….about the….”

“About you somehow escaping your detail. He found you in a bar in the Village.” The sharp planes and angles of Dad’s face grew somehow sharper. “You were by yourself, apparently with plans to…” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Meet somepersonat the carousel.”

Part of me exhaled in relief, while another part tensed.

So, Calebhadtold him about the meeting.

“If you two want some privacy,” Atlas began.

“Whatthe fuckwere you thinking, Isabel.” Dad’s voice was so cold it might as well have come direct from Antarctica.

Obviously, he was angry, I knew the signs. His tall figure was tense, that muscle in his jaw jumping, his blue eyes like knives.

He was the most furiously controlled man I’d ever met. We were like fire and ice, and sometimes I used to wonder if he was even my father since I didn’t look like him and I was the opposite of him temperamentally in every way.

Over the years we’d grown apart — he’d never been able to handle my teenage rages and I’d never been able to handle his coldness.

I didn’t really blame him. He’d had me so young and had lost the great love of his life when I was born, and if there were times where I wondered if perhaps, he blamed me for Mom’s death, I tried not to dwell on them.

I’d probably blame me too if I was him.

But I still couldn’t stand it when he looked at me that way, as if I was nothing but a nuisance. As if all life’s minor inconveniences and irritations were my fault and he was just so tired of them.

It hurt, and when I was hurt, I got angry. And considering I was already furious, not to mention thrown off balance by his presence and Atlas’s when I thought it was going to just be Caleb, I wasn’t thinking straight.

“I wastryingto find out about my mother,” I said hotly. “Oddly enough, I don’t know a single thing about her, because you tell me jack shit.”

Dad’s hands clenched at his sides — another a warning sign. “So, you thought that meeting some complete stranger, on your own was—”

“You can’t even say her name!” I shouted, already halfway across the room, ready to scream in his face. “Her name was Juliana Hamilton, Dad. Say it!”

He’d gone white. “Sit down, Isabel. You know nothing about—”

“It’s okay,” I went on heedlessly. “I know you blame me for her death. I know you hate me because I killed her. I can see it every time you look at me. That’s why you won’t tell me isn’t it?” Then, because obviously I’d lost all semblance of common sense, I added. “And while we’re at it, what wereyoudoing on Friday night? Going to a—”

“Enough, Isabel.” Caleb’s voice fell like anvil over my tirade, crushing it flat, and preventing me from giving the whole game away.

He was close too, just behind me, I could feel his heat, smell the exotic masculine spice of his aftershave.

Dad had gone even whiter, his blue eyes stark and blazing in his face.

The silence was deafening.

A strong, warm hand gripped my arm. “Come and sit down,” Caleb murmured in my ear.

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